Coffee, Books, Rain, & You
by abbyfillion22
Summary: How will Caskett spend a day off of work with no interruptions? I cheesy one-shot for those loving the recent gorgeous sweater weather


**Author's Note: It's about to get cheesy up in hurrrrr. Grab the crackers.**

* * *

"What do you want to do today?" he asks.

She honestly has no clue. A day off of work: so many possibilities, full of potential like a blank piece of paper. No calls, no paperwork, no murders for an _entire _day. But Kate Beckett, the workaholic, has no clue what to do. She burrows deeper beneath the warm covers and turns to look out the window where a rare early-morning storm is brewing. The sky is a strange orange-black; the wind blowing fire-colored leaves around the sidewalk below. Huge raindrops begin to splatter the glass as she rolls onto her side to face him. "Nothing."

Castle props his head up on one elbow. "Seriously? You don't want to do anything?"

Kate shrugs, not quite sure if he's still asking what she wants to spend her day doing or simply being suggestive. "When was the last time we took a day to ourselves?"

He thinks about it. Even when she was unemployed, Beckett spent every waking moment trying desperately to find work. And 'work' didn't always mean being a cop. She was restless during the hiring freeze; cleaning up this, organizing that, fixing whatever it was that needed fixed, whether it was broken or not. There is _never_ a wasted moment in Kate's life.

"Lazy day it is, then," he says finally, grabbing his and her phone from the nightstand and powering them down.

Something about this gesture is slightly frightening to Kate, if not thrilling. Having her phone off means no one can reach her, but also that it's now just her and Castle, like being isolated on their own private island.

He drops the cells in the drawer next to her piece and badge and shuts it with a finite click.

Beckett clears the space between them and traces a finger along the cotton collar of his faded Tshirt. Castle puts an arm around her shoulders as she begins to kiss his neck, her hands wandering down his body.

"You know, just because I don't want to do anything today, doesn't mean I don't want to _do_ anything," she says in the sexiest bedroom voice she can muster.

He can't help but gasp as her warm digits slip down his shorts and wrap around him. "_Beckett_," he coughs, attempting to sit up but she forces him back down.

"What, Castle," Kate whispers, stroking until he becomes hard in her hand. "I thought you liked it when I do this."

His knuckles turn white as he grips the sheets, trying to keep his wits about him as his fiancé nibbles on his earlobe; breathing dirty secrets into his ear. "Yes, but it's your day off," he protests, "let me-"

"Don't worry," she says, sliding down the bed, "you'll have time. We have all day, remember?"

* * *

"Do you want coffee?" Castle asks, running his fingers through her loose curls while she uses his bicep as a pillow.

"Always," Kate replies.

He moves to get up, his back cracking loudly, still sore from their last round. "I'll go get it. You just relax."

"Love you," she sighs and pulls the sheets tighter around her; missing the warmth of his body next to hers, her eyes growing heavy as she listens to the sound of him moving about the kitchen.

The rain is coming down harder now and flashes of lightening periodically cut across the room, accompanied with a rumbling boom. Soon, the sweet aroma of ground coffee beans fills the apartment and Kate realizes how hungry she is. It's well past noon and she hasn't had anything to eat yet.

She stands and stretches; the floor cold beneath her feet. She picks Castle's rumpled shirt up off the rug and puts it on before joining him in the kitchen.

From behind the island, Castle holds up two steaming mugs. "Hey. I was just bringing you this."

"Thanks," she says, accepting the coffee, made just the way she likes it. "How's your back?"

"I'll be fine," he replies, skirting around her to get to the refrigerator from which he removes eggs and milk.

Kate sits on the granite counter and sips her coffee as Castle busies himself making chocolate chip pancakes: his signature post-coitus breakfast.

"You know," Castle says, pouring the batter onto a pan, "this is what it's going to be like when we're old and retired. Every day will be like this one: no jobs, no responsibilities, no family drama, no stress."

"Sounds boring."

"Sounds like heaven," he grins, imagining growing old with Kate, when their supposed 3 kids are all grown up and living on their own. "Just you, me, and the retirement home nurses; the only thing on our schedule: shuffleboard at 8 and bingo at 11:30." He drops chocolate pieces into the now bubbling batter circles and flips them. "If you could retire anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

Kate crosses her arms and shivers, bumps rising on her skin. "Someplace warm."

"It _is_ kind of chilly in here," he admits, "I'll turn on the fireplace; you keep an eye on the pancakes."

She accepts the spatula from him and assumes post in front of the pan as he goes to the living room. Another bolt of lightning flashes through the loft and the lights flicker once.

When the pancakes are done, she stacks them onto a plate, drowns them in syrup, and carries them out into the foyer. "They're ready," she calls to him.

"Be right there," Castle replies.

Beckett stands in front of the bookshelves; scanning the wide selection of novels. A few of her own books stand intermixed with Castle's, obvious of their true owner by their yellowed pages and torn covers; a stark contrast to his collections of limited, mint-condition editions. Her books stick out like sore thumbs: the _Fifty Shades_ trilogy, old copies of _Vanity Fair_ and _Les Miserables_ mixed with his barely read mysteries and thrillers, their covers still stiff and not yet bent back.

She selects a book from the shelf that had been strategically placed at eye-level, the shelf that holds the Derrick Storm and Nikki Heat novels. She carries _Heat Wave_ over to the window seat located under the stairs and sets the plate of pancakes next to her.

Castle finds her moments later in the middle of chapter 1. He plops down next to her and picks up a pancake with his fingers. "You're reading that again?" he asks, getting another glimpse, yet again, of how much of a fan she was.

She shushes him and finishes the paragraph she was on before tossing it aside and stealing a bite of his pancake.

"Hey," he says, shielding his pancake from her. "There's a whole plate here and you have to take mine?"

Kate shrugs and takes another bite before snuggling up next to him and staring out the window into the pouring rain, clutching her coffee mug to her chest to keep the warmth. "You know, I used to love autumn when I was younger," she says nostalgically. "It meant football games, bonfires, raking leaves with my parents, warm sweaters and boots…"

Castle crams another pancake into his mouth. "Ah, you're lucky. When I was younger, fall meant spending three hours at the hair salon each week with Mother getting her hair dyed progressively darker for the colder season."

She smacks his hand away from the plate when he reaches for a third. "Stop eating like that, it's bad for your heart. Anyways, your mom took you trick-or-treating, isn't that a good memory?"

"Meh," he shrugs indifferently. "Besides, that's in the past. Now I can associate autumn with days like today: coffee, books, rain, and you."

She smiles and cuddles closer. "You're sweet."

"Yeah, I know," he grins, picking up _Heat Wave _from where it had been momentarily discarded and opening to a random page. He begins reading aloud. "I'm trying to figure the rules. This isn't yin and yang, it's more like yin and yank. The past few days I've been going, OK, she doesn't mix the... romance so well with the single-mindedness of the police work. So it gets me wondering, Is the solution for me to give up our working relationship? Stop my magazine research so we can-?"  
Nikki grabbed him into a deep kiss. Then she pulled away and said, "Will you shut up?"

* * *

**Author's Note: Yeah, okay, that was cheesy. But cute, no? Sorry, I have writer's block ._.**


End file.
